


Hardest of Hearts

by foldingcranes



Series: All These Things I've Done [8]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Cock Warming, Established Relationship, M/M, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Pre-Fall of Overwatch, Retribution Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-04-24 00:20:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14344017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foldingcranes/pseuds/foldingcranes
Summary: Gabriel scoffs, crossing his arms in a childish display of defiance. “You sound like my husband.”“Yeah, no," Gérard wrinkles his nose. “I’m pretty sure your husband is actually worse. Go to bed and be a good boy so he doesn’t murder you, okay? God knows Amélie would kill me if I were in your place.”(After Gabriel and Jack's romp in a supply closet, Gabriel goes home and tries to get some rest.)





	Hardest of Hearts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stuffy_j](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stuffy_j/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Swallowing Matches](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14301993) by [stuffy_j](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stuffy_j/pseuds/stuffy_j). 



> This is a sequel to [Stuffy_J](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stuffy_j)'s Retribution fic, "Swallowing Matches." She wanted me to write a coda and I thought it would be nice to write one from Gabriel's POV.
> 
> Thank you for beta reading this, Ju!!!

Jack’s still stuck doing damage control when Gabriel’s allowed to go.

Gérard silently claps his back on the way out of the debriefing room, walking down the main hallway with him. He’s still bruised, half of his face a little bit swollen where bandages used to rest until a few days ago. Dr. Ziegler did a good job with him.

Gabriel clenches his fist, the tension in that gesture making his knuckles hurt. Gérard stops him before they reach the parking lot.

“You,” he points at Gabriel, wagging a finger in front of his nose. “You need to sleep. I mean it. Seriously, Gabriel, go get a full night of rest and see if that helps you finally calm the fuck down.”

Gabriel scoffs, crossing his arms in a childish display of defiance. “You sound like my husband.”

“Yeah, no," Gérard wrinkles his nose. “I’m pretty sure your husband is actually worse. Go to bed and be a good boy so he doesn’t murder you, okay? God knows Amélie would kill me if I were in your place.”

Gabriel sighs, bids Gérard goodbye and gets back on his way home. The tremors in his body have finally stopped and the silence in the base has left him at the mercy of his own loud thoughts. He was supposed to go to medical after the debriefings, but he can’t face Moira. Not yet. He can’t just go and shake her and shoot her in her goddamned smirking face. There’s too much to lose and he can’t afford to be reckless.

Jack’s not home yet. He won’t be home for a while, currently too busy trying to clean up the Venice mess. Gabriel probably has just shaved decades off of his husband’s life, hah. With that thought, he steps into the shower and enjoys the hot water as it falls down his skin, willing his body to relax. His muscles have clamped up again in the interrogation room, even after his romp with Jack in that supply closet. Gabriel rests his forehead on the wall’s cold tiles, trying to steer his thoughts back to a pleasant direction, forcing himself to remember the warmth and firmness of Jack’s body instead of the cold dread at the bottom of his belly and the coldness that took over him as soon as he realized that Blackwatch had been set up.

Fucking hell. It’s got to be Moira. There’s no way it won’t be Moira.

Genji and Jesse have nothing to gain from this, while Moira probably affords to win a lot. Resources. Connections. A bunch of Shady Shit that not even Blackwatch can give her.

He wants to strangle her with his bare hands. He wants to toss her inside a bare cell and leave her to rot—

But he can’t. Not yet. Not while his body is still falling apart, dissolving and reforming, pulling him away from reality. Corrupting the mere essence of the man he is, threatening to destroy everything he has in this life.

Gabriel takes a deep, deep breath. The tips of his fingers are slightly blackened when he stares at his hands. Frowning, he snaps out of it and starts to scrub the blood and grime off his body.  Once he’s done cleaning himself up, he leaves the bathroom wrapped up in Jack’s ridiculously fluffy bathrobe (a gift from Fareeha). He takes it off once he’s properly dried and silently slips under the covers of his bed, resting on his side. Waiting.

There’s no use trying to make himself fall asleep. Gabriel doubts he’ll get any shut-eye tonight, no matter how much Gérard chides him or Jack sends him dirty glares. Distantly, a door opens. Gabriel huffs. He probably summoned Jack by thinking too hard about him. A classic, really. Jack’s footsteps are heavy and slow, which means he’s dragging his feet because he’s tired. Which also means that he’s too tired to keep yelling at Gabriel.

Good.

“Jack?” Gabriel calls. Soon enough, Jack’s hunched form appears by the doorframe. He has already shed his armor and boots and is currently slipping out of the duster. He throws it on top of a chair filled with a bunch of wrinkled clothes as he walks to the other side of the bed so he can leave some of his shit on the bedside table.

Jack’s been silent the whole time.

“Jack,” Gabriel calls to him again. “C’mon,” he reaches for Jack, taking his hand as he finishes getting rid of his pants. “Come to bed. Hey—yeah, that’s it.” He watches as Jack closes his eyes for a beat, inhales deeply and gets under the sheets, allowing Gabriel to slot himself behind him, against Jack’s back, spooning him.

“I need a shower,” Jack’s voice is rough. He spent at least forty minutes screaming at Gabriel during the debriefing.

“You can do that tomorrow,” Gabriel whispers, pressing his lips against the skin of Jack’s shoulder.

_Don’t think of Moira, he tells himself. Don’t think about her, don’t think about Venice, don’t think about the setup—_

“I probably stink,” Jack grunts, still refusing to face Gabriel.

Gabriel feels his throat start to close up. “Please,” he rasps, his grip on Jack’s body getting tighter. More urgent. “Please, Jack, we can talk about it, we can—later. Please. _I need you_.”

Jack deflates then, even if his muscles show how tense he still is. He turns his head to kiss Gabriel’s jaw sloppily. “Ssh, hey. I’m here, Gabe. I’m here. You have me.”

With that reassurance, Gabriel takes a shaky breath, going soft under Jack’s gentle kisses, setting a hand between Jack’s legs and slipping two fingers inside him. He’s still wet and loose from when Gabriel fucked him in that stupid closet. Jack shudders, instantly responsive, plastering himself to Gabriel’s chest, heart beating faster. He’s turning red with arousal already. Gabriel grabs one of Jack’s thighs, lifting his leg enough so he can easily push inside him. He gets the tip in first, stretching Jack’s puffed rim until he’s thrusting into him in one swift motion, filling him completely. At that, Jack lets out a loud, pitiful moan and stifles what sounds like a laugh. Gabriel lets go of Jack’s leg, instead resting the palm of his hand on top of his heart, feeling as it thrums beneath his fingers.

Jack turns his head again, enough to kiss Gabriel on the mouth, this time. “Good?” he asks, eyes hooded and blond hair already sticking to his forehead.

Gabriel hides his face on the crook of Jack’s neck, too overwhelmed to move. He stays still, his cock hard and throbbing, so warm he thinks he’s going to burn from the inside and out. Jack’s like a furnace, running hot and intense, a bead of sweat falling from the back of his neck. Gabriel licks it, then kisses and sucks on the skin there, leaving an annoyingly big bruise. Another soft moan leaves Jack’s mouth and he slightly leans over his side to take a good look at his face.

Eyes closed and lips parted, Jack’s face is flushed red, tears lumping his eyelashes together. “You good?” Gabriel echoes back to him.

“Yeah,” Jack croaks, a soft exhalation leaving his body. He doesn’t open his eyes.  “You?”

“Perfect,” Gabriel sighs, fingers still splayed over Jack’s heart, his body trembling with the effort it takes him not to move. This is only one out of thousands of moments which Gabriel wants to commit to memory. This intimacy, the softness of his own bed, the safety of his own space. The love in the way Jack nuzzles his beard with his crooked nose and patiently waits for Gabriel to climb down his cloud.

This moment, handed to him like a carefully wrapped gift after an entire day of pure hell.

Gabriel reminds himself that he gave himself to war for  _this_. This is his piece of heaven. This is a peace of his own design. He’s earned it, and no one will tear it away from him.

So he snaps his hips forward, going fully hard again. Fucking into Jack’s tight heat just the way they like it when they have time: slow and sensual, all the way in until he’s rolling Jack onto his belly and going deeper and harder.

Jack begs. He always wants more. He wants Gabriel to prove to him they’ve lived to see another day. _It’s Gabriel’s way of saying I’m still here. I’m not going away. Things haven’t changed._

Jack’s moaning. They’re soft, little punched out noises. His voice is hoarser than ever and he’s fisting the sheets. Gabriel laces their fingers together and presses a kiss against Jack’s spine, pounding into him until he’s coming, hot come filling Jack up again. Jack clenches around him, making Gabriel groan in overstimulation, brain still foggy with the effects of his orgasm. He wraps a hand around Jack’s cock as he comes, milking him until he’s just a sloppy wet mess, sagging into the bed with a sigh, Gabriel still on top of him.

For a while, there’s only the soft sound of their heated breathing. Gabriel kisses Jack on the mouth as he turns for a sweet, lazy kiss. He pulls out softly, making Jack whine while Gabriel watches as his come leaks out of Jack’s body. He slips two fingers inside that flushed hole, trying to scoop out all the come, his cock twitching with valiant effort.

The adrenaline has long ago abandoned his body, and Gabriel doesn’t think he’s up for another round. But he lowers himself between Jack’s legs, taking his cock in his mouth. Jack hisses, then his thighs quiver a little. Soon, he’s hard again, as Gabriel licks the underside of his cock and then sucks at the tip slowly, crooking his fingers so he can fuck Jack properly.

He fingers and sucks Jack off until he’s coming again, biting his own fist to muffle what would have been a pretty loud scream. Gabriel swallows, licking his lips for visual purposes, then goes to lie down next to Jack, laughing as his husband curls up to his side.

“I’m still mad,” Jack pants, cheek smushed against Gabriel’s left pec. “I’m so mad. So mad. As soon as I get up and go shower, you’ll have to leave the bed and take your shit to the couch.”

Gabriel rolls his eyes at him, petting his hair. That always manages to reduce Jack to a cuddly, pliant lump of a man. “You won’t. You want to cuddle. You’re about fall asleep, c’mon.”

“I mean it,” Jack insists. “I mean it, you can’t— you can’t keep doing this to me and then just laugh it off and then fuck me,” to Jack’s own visible horror, his voice breaks. “You could have died.”

Gabriel drags a hand down his face, feeling the guilt crash into him again, knowing that his only regret is upsetting Jack.  (And knowing that he absolutely can’t tell Jack this.)

“Jackie…”

Jack noses his neck sweetly. Then he pats Gabriel’s firm stomach and unglues himself from Gabriel’s body, leaving him to fend off the cold alone. “I’m going to take a shower,” he patiently explains as he leaves the bed. “And when I’m back, I want you out of the bedroom.”

Gabriel groans.

“Yes, sweetheart.”

 

* * *

 

 

 

Gabriel can’t sleep.

He’s tossing and turning and his eyes sting with exhaustion. His palms feel sweaty and his body is too cold. His neck and back are stiff and sore and his stomach contracts with hot, boiling anger every time the smarmy, smug face of Antonio comes to his mind.

Gabriel feels like he hasn’t slept in a long, long time.

There’s a dripping sound coming from the damaged faucet in the kitchen sink, the one that Jack has repaired at least three times over the years.

 _Drip, drip, drip_. It's taunting him.

There’s a beeping sound coming from the Blackwatch com that he keeps on him at all times in case of an emergency.

 _Beep, beep, beep_.

There's no emergency this time, just the steady flow of communications that comes after a heavy mission. Gabriel smothers himself with his pillow, muffling a silent scream in it. If he could just fucking sleep—

“Gabriel,” calls a rough voice from behind him.

Oh, fuck. Now what.

Jack’s standing there, in all his sleepy glory and still looking well fucked, elbows resting on the back of the couch. He has messy bed hair and dark circles under his eyes, but Gabriel knows, from the bit of drool at the corner of his lip, that he actually got some sleep. Out of spite, Gabriel doesn’t tell him about the drool. Let Mr. Commander look silly.

“What,” he grumpily crosses his arms, stretching his legs so he takes up all the space on the couch. “You gonna keep scolding me?”

“No,” Jack sighs, shoulders slumping. He rubs his forehead, probably trying to chase away a headache. It's a familiar gesture.

“No, just—come to bed. I heard you moving from our room, so I came to check on you. C’mon, grab your pillow.”

“Is this a trick?” Gabriel asks, squinting. Still, he grabs his pillow and turns his head from left to right in an attempt to ease the stiffness.

Jack wrinkles his nose, looking annoyed. “No, no tricks at all. Just come to bed.”

Gabriel does as he’s told, grateful for not being forced to spend the entire night trying to sleep on their shitty, awfully angular couch.

He's counting himself lucky, this time. Playing it safe, he follows Jack back to their room and silently slips into bed, watching as his husband lies next to him and then fixes his gaze on the ceiling. Jack's jaw is set and he seems jumpy. _Yes_ , he’s still mad.

Gabriel stays quiet until Jack's breathing finally softens. _Well_ , he thinks, what’s done is done. He won’t change his mind about what he did or regret the choices he made. He always sticks to the calls he makes, never allowing himself to turn back. It's the only way he does things and he knows Jack _knows_ this.

And yet, he can’t help but release a sigh of relief and sag into the mattress when Jack reaches for him in his sleep and holds Gabriel’s hand for the rest of the night, just like he used to do when they were freshly out of the first Omnic Crisis.

Gabriel holds back a snort, smiling, closing his eyes as Jack curls up to his side.

Finally, he's going to get some fucking sleep.

 

**Author's Note:**

> [You can yell at me!!!](https://twitter.com/foldingcranes/)


End file.
